


shards of glass

by dysprosium (blueism)



Series: Glass. [Dream Angst] [2]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Clay | Dream-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), I'm sorta proud of my description of the forest ngl, Other, happy ending at last ig, no beta we die like my heart when i read good angst, once again i have no idea what to tag, stress on the ig part, the others are like mentioned for a couple of lines lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:36:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28986486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueism/pseuds/dysprosium
Summary: Happy ending to apart at the seams.Don't have to read apart at the seams beforehand, is not canon compliant.
Series: Glass. [Dream Angst] [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2126262
Kudos: 137





	shards of glass

**Author's Note:**

> if you dont want to have like a happy sorta ending, don't read this lmao

Beeeeeeeeeeeep. Beeeeeeeeep.

Everything was too warm. Too bright. Too much of _everything_. Dream opened his eyes, and instantly regretted it as white assaulted his eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut as his brain began functioning properly and piecing things together. Things weren’t supposed to be this bright. They weren’t supposed to be warm on that matter. So, there were two possibilities. One, he’s dead and somehow landed in heaven, despite him not deserving it, or two, someone got him out of the cell. Dream was leaning towards the former, but he knew it wasn’t true. The hunger that was ever-present during his… _stay_ in that dingy cell wasn’t absolved. If it was heaven, Dream reasoned, it’d be gone, right?

“You think he’s awake yet?” voices, two of them, were heading closer, the sound of footsteps getting louder.

“Nope, it’s been like a month, and he hasn’t moved once,” he sifted through his brain, trying to put a name to the voice. He tensed up. _Sapnap? George? Out of everyone, why them? He vividly remembers Sapnap looking somewhat pleased as he was dragged away. George had just watched. Just… watched with _mirth_ in his eyes._ Dream felt sick. Not because of the physical condition he was in, which was obviously frail, but the mental video looping on repeat. The satisfaction. The small _laughs_ from those who used to be his friends, who he used to think at the very least liked him. Dream wouldn’t be fooled again. He couldn’t risk it. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if they’d just brought him out to heal him and then toss him back in again. Honestly, if that happened, Dream couldn’t say he didn’t expect it. He knew it was selfish of him to want freedom. He didn’t care.

“Dream? You awake?” George was sitting by the bed, Sapnap right next to him. 

“Yes,” Dream said, voice rough. He propped himself up with some effort. 

“O-oh,” George said, fiddling with his hands, clearly having not thought about what to do if Dream was awake. Silence filled the room, and it brought flashbacks to a better time, a time where silence like this wasn’t tainted with discomfort. When Dream didn’t have walls put up against his former best friends. It was sad, really. How he’d invested so much trust in both of them. But Dream guessed it was all his fault. He was the one who did, after all, lust for power, didn’t he? He was the one to shift the blame onto, right? They were just being reasonable. It was all his fault. Why was he still here? Nobody cared. Well, they probably did care. Just in a negative way. And that was worse than none at all, right? 

“Why’d you get me out of there?” Dream asked. Well, he tried to ask. His voice came out as more of a croak. 

“I dunno, I guess we felt guilty,” Sapnap said in return. Dream stifled a snort. Guilt? That’d mean they still cared, and still liked him enough to fish him out of there. He didn’t think that he’d ever believe that they liked him again. He did, once. Look where that got him. George tried to cover a flinch as he noticed Dream’s actions, knowing the meaning behind it. Dream just shut his eyes, and slumped down into the bed again, ready to ignore the two, and the awkward conversation along with it. 

\----

It was the next day. Dream felt considerably better, but he didn’t feel reassured that they wouldn’t just toss him back into the cold, dark cell. He convinced his body to move, pain jarring his body in an uncomfortable fashion, grabbing him within its claws as he gritted his teeth and kept on moving, wobbling in an unstable manner as he headed to the window. He looked at the ground from up high and shivered. Yep, he still had that irrational fear of heights. This was irritating. He sighed. Dream wanted out. It didn’t matter how, so he had to suck it up and deal with it. He shattered the window, making as little noise as possible, well, as little noise as was possible for an act such as breaking glass. He stuck his head out the window as he watched the glistening shards of glass fall to the floor. He guessed that they were reminiscent of him. But, he wasn’t broken yet, right? Maybe he was cracking, but he wasn’t broken. The fact that he was still breathing, still finding a reason to live- _what was his reason to live anyway?_ was a testament to that, right? Dream didn’t care. He just had one thought running through his head at that moment: Run. Escape. Hide.

They might’ve changed, but it was probably too late. Whenever he saw any one of them, all he saw was the cool indifference written upon their faces. It stung. He deserved it though. His mind in a state of conflict, Dream took a deep breath and just focused on escaping. He used the sheets from the bed to cushion the edges of the jagged glass and took a deep breath before jumping out the window. He cursed as he landed on the ground, recoil shocking him for a couple of seconds as he wandered to the woods. Deep inside, surrounded by nature, he stopped to admire the forest. He’d never seen nature as pretty as this.

The forest was filled to the brim with light. This light was different than the stark whiteness of the hospital, and the utter darkness in the prison. No, it was a hue of light green, dancing around the flora, utterly _alive_. The light filtered through the emerald green leaves, fanning into stripes between the trees. Flowers dotted the ground, white, light blue, and yellow. Tangled vines fit snugly onto tree trunks, and fallen logs were scattered every which way, rotting, but decorated with soft patches of velvety green moss. And the fauna. The air carried the cries of birds far and wide, and Dream reveled in the sounds. They were light and cheerful, nothing like the silence he’d come to expect. Little insects scrambled around, gentle and too absorbed in their affairs to pay any mind to the person encroaching upon their forest. He blinked, feeling a warm liquid trailing down from his eyes. Why was he crying? He tried to rub it away, both the tears and the hurt echoing through him. He failed. Dream crouched down, body spent after so long not doing much for ages. He leaned against a tree, and just gave up trying to contain his sobs.

After all the tears, the pent up emotion had sapped out of him, Dream sat there, just thinking. Thinking about them. Thinking about his conflicting emotions. Thinking about how he truly was only happy when they were happy (and how they had thrown him in that cell). He thought about it. And contemplated it more. How poetic the scene must’ve looked; Dream resting against a tree, tears drying on his face, and soft, warm light bathing him in its warmth. All things come to an end though. Soon, the calls of his former friends rang through the air. Dream inhaled sharply, weighing his options. Better to just run right now, right? After all, they’d make him pay for escaping the room and breaking the window. He was already started on the journey away from them, why not continue? But on the other hand, maybe he should let them find him, with evidence of his breakdown visible to anyone with eyes, just to see them flinch. Dream bit his lip and ignored the side of him with a vendetta not yet satisfied, the part with the ache to show them how much hurt they caused him. He ignored it because he knew he deserved every bit of it. It was just repercussions for his actions. Dream sighed, giving in as he shakily stood, wandering out of the woods and revealing himself to the people gathered around. He tried to keep his composure, bracing himself for the onslaught of harsh words that was inevitable. It never came though. There was just silence. Unnerving silence. Flashbacks. Darkness. Cold. Blood. Pain. Dream unconsciously shivered as his mind wandered, reliving the memories of his stay.

“I- uhm- _fuck_ , I don’t know what to say,” Punz stressed as he tugged nervously at his hair. Dream blinked mildly. “Just, we wanted to say that uhm- we hope you let us make things up to you. I-it’s okay if not, we just, fell guilty for locking you up,” Punz finished lamely.

“Some of us, anyway,” Tommy muttered in the background, Tubbo slapping a hand over his friend’s mouth. Dream couldn’t really care less. He stood there, not saying anything. Just thinking. He did that a lot recently.

Dream wondered. He wondered if he was making a mistake, by taking this risk. 

By trusting them again. Maybe he was naive. Maybe they were lying to him. Maybe this wasn’t worth it. So many maybes. Such a big risk. Dream didn’t care.

He may be naive. He may be being lied to. He may be taking a risk.

But wasn’t life full of risks?

What even was life without some risk?

Dream took this risk.

**Author's Note:**

> that's a wrap! I really didn't know how to end this so take this  
> I'm an erratic writer, some days I can finish like 2k words, some days I hardly want to write one sentence. I've been procrastinating and I don't enjoy it really. I honestly don't know how to write comfort, only angst so hehe?  
> thank you for reading :)  
> (validation in the form of comments are appreciated)


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